


Empty

by WhiteRose_Is_My_Life



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Death, F/F, and discussions of death, and edelgard is still gay even in her last moments, edelgard singing empty chairs at empty tables and talking abt her friends dying, its sad and im sad, minor spoilers for VW, no beta we die like edelgard’s siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 18:57:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteRose_Is_My_Life/pseuds/WhiteRose_Is_My_Life
Summary: “I love you,” said Edelgard quietly. “Perhaps in a different lifetime, we could have been together on this path.”“We could be together now.”“No, we could not, despite how much I wish we could.”





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> hello im So Genuinely Sorry my first contribution to edeleth is tragic i have no self control 
> 
> twitter is @wrcassnessa if you want to yell at me

Byleth walked into the war room, greeted by the sight of Edelgard standing at the other end of the large central table. Her hand was fondly touching the top of the chair just left of the head of the table’s own. She looked to her, a sad smile on her face. Byleth inhaled, remembering the day Edelgard had given her the same look as the Flame Emperor’s mask had fallen to the ground. 

“_There’s a grief that can’t be spoken_,” She started to sing, a song Byleth recognized from an old Empire Opera she’d one heard Manuela sing. “_There’s a pain goes on and on_,”

Edelgard turned to sweep her gaze across the room. “_Empty chairs at empty tables_,” she blinked back tears. “_Now my friends are dead and gone_.”

Her hand shifted softly along the top of the chair. “Not much of a singer, am I? Never was, truthfully.”

“Edelgard-“ Byleth started, but the Emperor held up a small hand to stop her. 

“Dorothea was. Composed operas about all of our house members, would sing them to us to lighten our spirits. She sat here, right in this chair. Told me she would come back alive the day she died.” Byleth saw the tears threatening to fall from Edelgard’s eyes, loosened her grip on the Sword of the Creator. 

“_Here they talked of revolution_,” Edelgard sang. “_Here it was they lit the flame. Here they sang about tomorrow, and tomorrow_...” She paused, inhaled. It was a composing action Byleth had seen the Adrestian Emperor take many times back in their days at the academy. Byleth knew it was because she was trying her best not to break down. “..._never came_.” 

“Petra sat directly to her side. Was always at her side, speaking honestly. They had plans, I think, to get married after the war was over. Instead of sharing the rest of their lives together, they now share the cold loneliness of the grave. All because they believed-” Edelgard choked back a sob, did her best to look neutral. “All because they believed in me.”

“Petra grew up with me, with Hubert. She may have come to Adrestia as a political prisoner, but she quickly grew to be like a sister to me, and I sent her to her death for a war we will not win. Not just her, but her love, and her closest friends.” 

Byleth opened her mouth to say something, but closed it quietly. 

Edelgard walked over to one of the many tables scattered about in the room, looking longingly out the window. “_From the table in the corner, they could see the world reborn, and they rose with voices singing, and I can hear them now. The very words they have sung, became their last communion_.” Edelgard turned, looked affectionately towards the chair opposite the one that had been Dorothea’s.

“Hubert believed more strongly in me than anyone else, but he wasn’t only my confidant. Even if he was not apt at showing such, he cared for the black eagles more than himself. The day he heard Ferdinand died defending the great bridge, he tore his room apart in anger despite telling me that ‘death is just what happens in war.’

“I had finally found a family for my closest friend, and he-” She swallowed. Tears fell from her eyes, her restrain waning by the second. “He died trying to protect me and them. I killed my closest friend, professor.” 

“El…” Byleth wanted to move, wanted to go over to her former student and comfort her. She didn’t. 

“Bernadetta died on a battlefield at Gronder. She deserved to live happily and healthily at home with us, and she’s dead, yet again because of _ my _ambition.” 

“_Oh my friends, my friends, forgive me, that I live and you are gone. There’s a grief that can’t be spoken...there’s a pain goes on and on._” Edelgard’s singing was soft, clipped, interwoven amongst small cries and sniffles. 

“Caspar was inseparable from Linhardt, even until his final moments, the scouts told me. He _ died _ holding onto the broken corpse of his lover on a battlefield _ I _sent them to!” She yelled. Edelgard was something beyond angry, an emotion Byleth couldn’t quite place. Nevertheless, the Emperor continued on.

“_Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor, empty chairs at empty tables where my friends will meet no more_,” Edelgard inhaled a shaky breath. “_Oh my friends, my friends don’t ask me, what your sacrifice was for_!” 

Edelgard sunk to her knees, tears fell from her eyes like rivers of frustration. She was sobbing, full on sobbing, in a way that didn’t fit with Byleth’s image of the unshakeable Adrestian Emperor. Byleth moved over to the table, placed her sword down on it and knelt to pull Edelgard into a tight hug. 

Byleth didn’t say anything- she didn’t need to. Edelgard latched onto her, so touch-starved that even the simplest of embraces meant the absolute world to her. 

“I let my family die again, professor.” Edelgard whispered, her voice exceptionally small and weak for someone so strong and powerful. “Do you think if I’d been able to sway you, we would have succeeded?”

“I don’t know.” Byleth responded honestly. “But this war wasn’t for naught. You can trust me, and trust Claude, to usher in the new dawn you dreamed of.” 

Edelgard coughed, leaned back to give Byleth a weak smile. “My dreams always included you, my teacher. I suppose it is why they are dreams and not realities.”

“Edelgard…”

“_Empty chairs at empty tables, _ ” Edelgard stood, let go of Byleth and swept the room with her gaze. “_Where my friends will sing no more._”

Byleth stood as well, gripped the Sword of the Creator on the table. 

“I love you,” said Edelgard quietly. “Perhaps in a different lifetime, we could have been together on this path.” 

“We could be together now.”

“No,” The Emperor replied, sad and accepting all at once. “We could not, despite how much I wish we could. This war must come to an end, and that cannot happen while I yet live. If it is any consolation, my teacher, I am happy it is by your hand.” 

Byleth walked out of the war room, carrying Edelgard’s body in her arms. Claude had been resting against the wall, his teeth clenched and hair falling down over his eyes. He looked up as soon as he saw her, adopted that fake smile that Byleth had come to know so well. 

“Stubborn woman,” Claude said, looking to Edelgard’s closed, peaceful eyes. “Come on, my friend. Let’s bury her properly.” 

Byleth nodded, said nothing. 

There was nothing to say. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the no beta tag but that’s how it b sometimes


End file.
